This was written when I was angry and nature, God and anything superior. Why would you make me in complete but then make major perfect, make nature unique and make major patient me. Just wondering? Was I and experiment? To see whether the next unfortunate human will be like me? You’re my think this is deep. Yes it is. What is deep as well is that I cannot answer this question and it makes me angry that I don’t know. I don’t know. I just don’t know. If it doesn’t make you angry, it makes the family are crazy in my head and I angry because they told me to be angry so I am going to be angry because what they said so and what ever they say goes. Sorry, you’re probably getting confused, basically I really enjoy looking at imperfections. Makes me feel at home, welcomed, like I belong and not alienated in the midst of flawlessness.

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